


take a breath, love (fill your lungs up)

by bellawritess



Series: lashton prompts [15]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Crying, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pre-Slash, i sure do like to contradict myself huh, somehow it's almost fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: “Hi,” Luke says, and either he can’t see the redness of Ashton’s eyes in the dim light of the tour bus bunks, or he pretends not to notice.“Hi,” Ashton replies miserably. There’s no point pretending he isn’t.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Series: lashton prompts [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026498
Kudos: 9





	take a breath, love (fill your lungs up)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsetmagnolia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmagnolia/gifts).



> **prompt:** "you are my family."
> 
> [tumblr link!](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/628015826779488256/prompt-you-are-my-family)
> 
> title from losing me by gabrielle aplin & jp cooper

Ashton is curled up in his bunk, listening to sad music, when Luke finds him. The bus trundling down the freeway has provided Ashton a soothing sedative, something to ease the ache in his heart a little bit while he’d tried (and failed) to feel better, but he’s still hurting, an hour later, and when Luke tugs the curtain back Ashton isn’t sure if he feels better or worse for it.

“Hi,” Luke says, and either he can’t see the redness of Ashton’s eyes in the dim light of the tour bus bunks, or he pretends not to notice.

“Hi,” Ashton replies miserably. There’s no point pretending he isn’t.

“Can I join you?” Luke asks. If Ashton says no, then Luke will turn and go, but not without making sad puppy dog eyes for enough time to cripple Ashton with guilt. And he doesn’t want to say no. He really doesn’t want to be alone; he’s just used to it, when he needs time with his thoughts.

Luke won’t be disruptive, though. Luke knows when the time is to be silly and when Ashton just needs to breathe, to sit in silence and let the air in and out of his lungs, forcing himself through this rough patch because there are always going to be sunny days outside of them. Luke’s definitely been there. He won’t _really_ admit to it, but Ashton knows, has been there, a couple of times, and he knows that Luke will understand.

“Yeah,” Ashton says. Luke smiles carefully as he climbs into the bunk, which is just barely too small for the both of them. That’s never stopped them before, and it doesn’t now; Luke just snuggles right up to Ashton’s chest, tucking his face into Ashton’s neck as Ashton wraps an arm around him. 

For a good few minutes, they sit in silence. Ashton’s sad music continues to play dolefully through his earbuds, and Luke’s breath is steady against Ashton’s skin, and Ashton closes his eyes and takes deep breaths and tries to stop himself from crying.

It doesn’t work. This is just — it’s familiar, and it’s different. It’s right, and wrong. It’s _Luke_ — but it’s not Lauren. Not Harry. 

It takes a few tears dripping onto Luke’s temple for Luke to notice something is wrong, and by that time he’s already picked up on the way Ashton’s body is shaking with poorly concealed sobs.

“Ashton?” Luke whispers, pulling himself slightly upright, or as close as it’s possible to get in the low ceiling of the bunk. “Oh, no. Don’t cry. That’s useless to say, I know. Um, take a deep breath. You wanna breathe with me?” Ashton bites down on his lower lip hard enough to hurt, but the sobs wracking his body are merciless, and force their way between his teeth and tongue, out into the open. He tries to inhale but it just makes him feel like he’s choking.

“Ashton, Ashton,” Luke breathes, “come on. Put your hand here, you can feel me breathing. Just do what I do. In…” He inhales, tapping Ashton’s wrist steadily until he gets to seven, and Ashton gasps for air, feeling hopeless, feeling helpless. “And out,” Luke continues, exhaling with eleven taps against Ashton’s wrist. “Again.”

Ashton glues his eyes closed and tunes into his other senses, to Luke’s voice, soft yet still filling the space around them, and the way his fingers strike an unflinching rhythm into Ashton’s bones, and the way his chest rises and falls under Ashton’s palm. In for seven, out for eleven. Distantly, Ashton wonders where Luke learned this trick. 

When there’s less of an imminent threat of suffocation, Ashton opens his eyes. His eyelashes cling together with tears for a moment before he gets them open, and though it’s dark enough in the bunk, especially with the curtain drawn, it still takes Ashton a moment to adjust.

“Sorry,” he mumbles immediately. Luke makes a noise of disapproval.

“Don’t say sorry,” he says. “Don’t _be_ sorry. It’s okay. I could tell something was wrong. I’m glad you, um, let it out.” Tentatively, like he’s not sure if Ashton will push him away, Luke reaches out and wipes a tear off Ashton’s cheek. Ashton gives a shuddering exhale. “Do you want to talk about it?” Luke asks quietly, thumbing away the wet streaks down Ashton’s face.

 _Not really_ , is on the tip of Ashton’s tongue. But Luke is being so patient and so kind, and Ashton wants to put his faith in Luke. “Homesick,” he says instead, voice wobbling on the word. 

Luke hums. “Oh.”

“I don’t see how you’re not,” Ashton mutters, reaching up to swipe at his own eyes. The tears are starting to catch the breeze and dry on his face, and it’s making his skin feel tight and wrong. “We left everything behind to do this. Don’t you miss your family?”

In the pause, Ashton tilts his head awkwardly to look at Luke. Luke is staring out into the middle distance of sorts, obviously turning his response over in his head. It’s funny; sometimes Luke is so obviously the youngest, and other times, Ashton wonders if he’s not the oldest. There’s something about Luke that’s so childlike at times and so profound and thoughtful at others, and Ashton thinks that might just be the same trait in different settings.

“Well, my mum’s here,” Luke says thoughtfully, “so it’s probably different, for me. But, um, also, I never really…like, I’m the youngest. I didn’t look after Jack and Ben the way you looked after Lauren and Harry. I don’t feel like they, um, need me? Not to say they don’t miss me. Well,” he adds with a sort of wry, self-conscious half-smile. “I just mean — I guess I’m not worried about them getting on when I’m not around. And it seems like you probably are worried about that. With your siblings.”

Ashton has to admit that that’s part of it, and he wonders how Luke’s picked up on it. Maybe it’s because Ashton has displaced his tendency to mother people. In fact, his new victim is usually Luke. Now, in the dark, at the mercy of Luke’s gentle voice and calming techniques, that feels preposterous.

“But,” he says, “don’t you _miss_ them?” 

Luke ponders this. “I don’t know,” he says. “Like, in a way, yes. But also, the band is my family. You are my family. I — I don’t feel like there’s anybody to miss because it’s not like my family’s either here or there. It’s just bigger now. It’s everyone here _and_ everyone there.” He shrugs.

Ashton sighs and closes his eyes. “You got smart when we weren’t looking.”

“I’ve always been smart,” Luke says, with a hint of defensiveness.

That’s probably true, if Ashton had ever cared to look before. He’d been so caught up seeing Luke as someone to protect that he’d failed to notice that Luke doesn’t need protection, really.

“I’m sorry for,” Ashton gestures ambiguously. “I’m usually, um, I don’t know.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Luke repeats. 

“You’re sweet,” Ashton says, opening his eyes and looking up at Luke. “You really are. You’re thoughtful and you’re so sweet. I’m really grateful to have you.”

It’s hard to tell without much light, but Luke seems to be blushing. He shuffles back down until he and Ashton are face to face, noses barely a centimetre apart. “You’d do it for me,” he says quietly. “More importantly, though, I’ll do it for you. Whenever you need.”

Ashton believes him, that Luke will always help him carefully pull himself together, glue him shut until another seal inevitably comes loose. Ashton’s just pieces sewn poorly together, but he trusts that Luke will be there with the needle and thread, doggedly stitching him up like an old ragdoll that serves no purpose but that has too much sentimental value to throw away.

The look on Luke’s face says he’d never throw Ashton away, and Ashton believes that.

“I know,” he murmurs, bringing one hand up, tangling it in Luke’s hair. Luke dips his head, once again burying his face in Ashton’s neck, and Ashton bites down on what is almost a chuckle. He’s pretty sure there are rules against laughing so soon after crying, but Luke’s just — he’s just cute, and charming, and endearing, and adorable, but he’s also so intelligent, and soulful, and sincere, and — he’s _Luke_ , and he’s more things than Ashton can name. “Thank you,” he whispers, in case the gratitude emanating off of himself in waves isn’t obvious enough.

The curve of Luke’s smile presses into Ashton’s collarbone, and Ashton breathes in for seven, out for eleven, as he taps the comforting pattern against the nape of Luke’s neck. That, combined with the continuous rumble of the tour bus as it swallows up the miles, is enough to lull Ashton to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hey!


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